


no footsteps to follow

by spacershepards



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Major Character Injury, Psychological Trauma, real name usage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 01:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10349859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacershepards/pseuds/spacershepards
Summary: north and south don't abandon wash on the mother of invention.





	

**Author's Note:**

> something that has ALWAYS pissed me off about the freelancer arc is that north and south just up and abandoned wash. so i kept thinking about that, and eventually came to the conclusion that north and south NOT abandoning wash is, in fact, a great au. and then i pulled an all nighter writing this. which was... last night. so it’s actually unedited, because i’m really excited and i want to get it out there. this is going to be part of a series, because i got overexcited and... planned out, like, a ton of stuff. so. yeah. this is exciting. but yeah, if there are any plot holes or anything seems weird... that’s why. i just really wanted to get it published.
> 
> you can also, ofc, find this on my tumblr. since i have NO clue how to add a link... http://spacershepards.tumblr.com/post/158560784211/no-footsteps-to-follow

In another universe, when the alarms go off and the twins scatter, North goes back for Wash. Sure, Wash is woozy, and the only thing keeping him grounded is the sound of North's voice through all the alarms, the feeling of North's hand wrapping around his arm, yanking him to his feet. “Come on, Wash. I'm _not_ leaving you.”

And no, he can't think of anything to say back. But he follows him anyways.

North shows up to fight his sister with two sniper rifles, but Wash is right behind him.

South still loses. She _still_ cusses out her brother – “you _son of a motherfucking dickgrater_ ” – and she doesn't admit she's glad, just a _little_ , that he brought Wash along. Because otherwise, there's a chance she might not've made it out alive.

(Besides, Wash might not've made it out alive... even if she's _never_ gonna admit that. She _says_ she doesn't give a shit if he lives or dies. Besides, he still got an AI and she didn't and now nobody's getting AIs.)

North still carries her off the _Invention_ , with Wash right behind them. There's still a quiet “always got your back” and an even quieter “and I've got yours,” because they all know South doesn't like admitting she's got positive emotions towards her stupid older brother.

Wash acts like he doesn't hear them. 'course he does, but he's never going to let them know that, now _is_ he? And maybe he's confused, maybe Epsilon's memories haven't fully settled in yet, and maybe he's got a headache (the kind that feels like a train's run over his skull.)

So, _yeah_ , Wash and North and South steal a Pelican.

Or maybe they don't. Maybe there's a pilot already waiting in her ship, trying to get the hell out of there. Maybe she looks up at the three of them (four with North's AI), and frowns beneath her helmet, and orders them to get in.

They make it out of there alive, at the _very_ least.

By the time the Director pulls himself together enough to register who's there and who isn't, by the time that a medic actually reports Agent Washington as MIA...

Agents North Dakota, South Dakota, and Washington are gone.

But hey – that's just a story. One possible story in a sea of hundreds. You can't change what really happens... or what didn't.

Or can you?

* * *

“North, you better get your sister buckled in,” says Niner through gritted teeth, getting the Pelican off the ground.

“Oh, so NOW you're tryin' to be helpful?” South shouts, while North straps her in. “Fuck off, you fucking -”

She shuts up after a second. Maybe the pain's too much.

The ship's awfully empty. There's no Carolina or York or... well, half of the team is currently MIA, and it's _not_ like North's going back for them. Whether he wants to or not, he _can't_ , because they're already in a stolen Pelican, and chances are that they aren't gonna make it back.

North siding with Tex ruined that, Wash thinks, and buries his head in his hands.

He can't think straight. It's not that he's not trying to... but there's this annoying buzz in his head, going on, and on, and on, and...

And it hurts. Physically, mentally, all of the above.

He only looks up the third time North says his name, insistent in tone - “Wash? Are you okay?” - and doesn't know what to say. What _can_ he say? What, in any given universe, could possibly make _sense_?

He doesn't know. He doesn't know, and his head hurts, and – _AllisonAllisonAllisonAllisonAllison_. And there's a blonde woman smiling at him and “don't say goodbye” and a red-haired little girl with a bright smile on her lips and a hand reaching out to take the blonde woman's hands and a glittering ring on her finger and a beautiful white dress and the slightest hint of a curve on her stomach with her hand resting above it and and _and_ _fuck it hurts_ and –

He rips his helmet off, lets it crash to the ground. There's a pounding in his ears, in his head, and he can't see anything right, and... shit, he's gonna throw up if he doesn't... if he doesn't... 

“What the _hell_ is going on back there?”

And North's already out of his seat and standing in front of him and trying to... trying to _something_ , he can't tell. Wave his hands in his face or talk to him, maybe. Something like that. There's a noise and it sounds _something_ like North's voice, repetitive, speaking in the same tone.

But, shit, he can't think straight.

It takes a few moments for him to come out of it. It feels like he's walking out of a dream of some sort – everything's hazy, and foggy, and he can't breathe properly for a second or two. He's shaking. He can't breathe. He can't breathe, and he _swears_ he hears a woman's voice in his head, telling him that it's okay and she's there and she's _not_ leaving.

He's overly aware of North staring at him.

“Who's... Allison?” North says after a moment or two.

He didn't realize he'd spoken.

He doesn't know. He doesn't know _who_ Allison is. But he's vaguely certain that she's... _not_ someone he's ever known. He remembers, once upon a time, pressing his lips to hers. (But they're not his lips, and he doesn't ever really remember doing that, but he _does_.)

“I...” he _starts_ to say.

But Wash never finishes his sentence. He can't explain it. He doesn't know.

( _I don't know. I don't know who Allison is_.)

* * *

Niner's kind enough to drop them off on a planet with a large city.

She's also kind enough to give them some loose change. Fifty dollars, all in all – money she can't really afford to give them, but none of them actually grabbed anything. And South needs medical attention, and they need actual clothes, and... it's not like she can _help_ , but she can _try_. And then, because she can't do anything else, Niner leaves.

South lays in a hospital bed, tugging at a bright yellow hospital gown. North hasn't left her side since they got there – his fingers, intertwined with hers. They've almost always been conjoined, and she's almost always fucking hated it, but there's not much she can do about it. They're twins. Always have been, always will, 'til the day one of them drops dead. And she _isn't_ gonna let that happen any time soon.

“How long do you think we'll have to be here?” she whispers, shoving the side of her face into her pillow. “'cause you know I can't stand hospitals.”

North smiles slightly at that, but his brow's still knit in concern, and she's not stupid. She can tell he's worried about her. 'cause he shot her. 'cause it's his fault they're here. 'cause he couldn't have tried, y' _know_ , having that 'talk' with her _before_ he tried to kill her? “Who's to say? You need medicine. You need help.”

She'll need a brace, says one of the nurses. It's a patella fracture, says another. And none of them can make sense of it at all, 'cause you don't get those normally, or so they say.

They've done x-rays and scans and pretty much every medical thing under the fucking sun.

At some point, one of the nurses tells her she'll be needing surgery.

And yeah, maybe she flips out at that, almost has a fucking tantrum, and North climbs into the hospital bed with her (even though he's probably not supposed to) and holds her until she stops freaking out. Surgery never means something good's going on. She's learned that the hard way.

Once upon a time, she watched them take _bullets_ out of her brother. Bullets that were meant for _her_. Bullets he took because he didn't want to lose her.

He holds her hand, and says softly, “We're going to make it out of here. I promise.”

“Don't you _dare_ make promises you can't keep.”

“You really think I'll break this one?”

“I dunno,” she says, tugging at her hospital gown again. “We're _here_ , aren't we?” She glances over at Wash, who's asleep in a chair. He looks disheveled, like he hasn't slept in weeks. He's been in and out of consciousnesses since he got Epsilon.

She still doesn't understand. Doesn't think she ever will.

“Trust me, _солнышко_. We're going to make it out of here.”

Calling her a term of endearment less than 24 hours after shooting her in the kneecap? Oh, so... _brotherly_ it makes her want to puke. Fuck North, fuck him, after _everything_ they've been through, and he just resorts to acting like the older, overly protective brother he is. It's a cliché, a trope, that he always comes back to. And she _hates_ it.

“Really?” she murmurs. The painkillers have long since kicked in, and eventually, she's gonna crash and South honestly doesn't care. Not as long as she's safe.

She just doesn't _feel_ like she's safe.

“Yes, really. Go to sleep,” he says, pushing her hair out of her face, leaning down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He pauses, concern once again knitting his brow. “You _might_ be running a fever. I'm going to get a nurse.”

She fucking _hates_ hospitals.

* * *

It's been a while since North has worn civilian clothes when he _isn't_ attempting to sleep.

He steps out of the hospital for a few minutes, trying to get some fresh air – and to let Theta come out for a few brief moments, because it's hard to explain to doctors or nurses or any civilian, really, that the small holographic suit of armor hovering by your shoulder is an AI.

“North,” says Theta insistently, floating in front of him. “ _What's_ going on?”

“Look, Theta... it's really hard to explain. I'm sure you've gathered... _most_ of what's going on, but...”

“Yeah, but I dunno. Why're we at a hospital? Why aren't we on the _Invention_ anymore?” Theta's confused, and for good reason – North's almost as confused as his AI is. If it weren't for the fact that he needs to keep himself calm, grounded, for South and Washington...

“There's... someone coming after people with AIs,” he says, going with the truth. “But you already know that. And you already know that the Director's a bad person.”

Theta's form sort of shakes for a moment, like he's vibrating. “I don't get it. I don't get it!”

“I know, I know,” North says, keeping his voice steady for Theta's sake. “Theta, it's going to be okay. We're going to get through this.”

“What's wrong with Agent Washington?”

“I don't know,” North admits, pressing his fingers to his forehead. “That's something I can't explain. I don't think Wash knows, either.”

Theta glances at the ground. “Yeah, but...”

“I don't know, Theta. But we'll figure it out. We're...” A family. They're family. Family sticks together, or so he's always been told. South's the only family he has left.

“Is South okay?” Theta says, almost mirroring North's thoughts.

“She'll pull through. She's stubborn. When we were kids... she got in an accident on her bike and broke her arm. She _insisted_ on riding her bike the very second she got out of that cast.”

“I... don't get what that has to do with the current situation,” says Theta, so childlike that it almost hurts.

“She'll be fine,” North says softly. Of course she will. It's not like he did any lasting damage. He can't have. He didn't.

“I know she doesn't like me, but I don't want her to... I want her to be okay. Maybe because you want her to be okay, because she's your sister, and that... sort of makes her my sister too, but...”

“Yeah, I know, Theta. She's going to be fine. I _promise_.”

“Okay,” says Theta, and then he disappears.

And North returns to the hospital, feeling at least somewhat better.

* * *

_Allison_ , he's screaming, and he jolts awake, her name still on his mouth. South's staring at him, looking half asleep and pissed.

“I dunno who the _hell_ Allison is, Wash, and I really don't give a shit... but when someone's been in surgery, can you _not_ start screaming her goddamn name? Nobody gives a fuck who Allison is. I definitely don't. I don't give a fuck 'bout your wet dreams or whatever the fuck _that_ was.”

“That wasn't – I wasn't – _South_!” he protests, shaking.

“Whatever, Wash. If you're gonna start screaming her name again or something, can you at least go outside? I dunno, maybe you can go find my fucking brother. Haven't seen him in a while.”

As if twin telepathy summoned him, the curtains push open, and North steps inside the room. “They can't discharge you for a few more days,” he says quietly. Wash suddenly remembers the patient right next to them and feels even more guilty than he _already_ does. “Technically... we could leave, but it'd be going against the doctor's recommendation.”

“We have no way _off_ this fucking planet, North! We have no money, no ship... _nothing_ except our armor and a couple weapons. _Why_ couldn't you've brought your stupid healing unit? Then we wouldn't even be in this hospital.”

“I wasn't thinking about it.”

“We could... contact the UNSC,” Wash says, keeping his voice low.

North and South's heads turn, in perfect unison, to glare at him.

“That's not an option,” says North.

South grits her teeth for a second, then crosses her arms. “But _isn't_ it? I mean, c'mon, North. It's not like we're safer here than we are there! Whatever's hunting down those AI'll come after us eventually. You still got Theta. Couldn't given up your precious AI sooner, could you? Wouldn't even be in this mess...”

“That's _not_ true, and you know it.”

“Yeah, it fucking _is_! You know what happened to Wyoming, and no matter how insistent you are that it's not Tex... _someone_ attacked him. If we go back to the Project, at least we'll know what's goin' on. It's not like the media's gonna cover it.”

“We can't go back there. How many times do I have to explain –”

“Except you HAVEN'T explained, North! You keep dancing around the subject –”

 _ALLISON_.

Wash's heads are covering his ears again, trying to drive out the noise. “Can you two _please_ shut up for five seconds?”

“Wash – are you okay?” That's North, he _thinks_ , but he can't tell. He doesn't know. Allison's voice is ringing in his ears, telling him not to say goodbye, telling him she loves him, telling him she's getting called back to the military, telling him that she's pregnant, telling him...

“ _David_!”

And then, her voice stops.

He closes his eyes, trying to bring it back. He needs to hear her talk again. He has to, has to, has to.

 _Please please please the Director's hurting me please_.

It feels like someone's choking him and he can't breathe and his head feels like it's going to explode and he can't take it anymore, he can't breathe, he can't think straight.

 _Please Allison please Allison please ALLISON PLEASE ALLISON HELP ALLISON PLEASE ALPHA_.

“ _Agent Texas is dead.”_

“ _No. No. No. Allison!”_

Fuck, he can't breathe.

“Wash, look at me. Pay attention to my voice just keep your eyes on me it's okay it's okay just pay attention to my voice just keep your eyes on me it's okay David look at me look at me look at me it's okay.”

And his eyes meet gray ones where he expects Allison's.

 _Something_ about that thought calms him down, though he's not sure exactly what it is.

“David,” says North, waving a hand in front of his face. “It's okay.”

But it isn't, he wants to say. Wants to scream it. It's not okay. _He's_ not okay.

 _Alpha's_ not okay.

_Please. Director – please, keep her safe... you have to. Please!_

“I...”

_Please. PLEASE. KEEP HER SAFE. YOU HAVE TO._

_DON'T SAY GOODBYE._

“North. He looks like he's gonna puke.”

It's South's voice that _really_ brings him back to the present.

North looks over his shoulder at South, and then nods. Nods again. Swallows, gets to his feet, and leads Wash into the bathroom.

Before he knows it, he's throwing up, and then North's holding him.

* * *

“It's... it's... hard to explain,” Wash says a few days later, when they're huddled in an abandoned warehouse, a small fire bathing them in soft orange light.

Their armor's piled in a corner – where they left it, before they went to the hospital. It's not like anyone could use it, anyway: the armor's designed for each of them specifically. South's always liked that it's _her_ armor, that North couldn't wear it even if he tried – because it's not made for him. It's not his. It's hers. Built for her usage.

“I think I can help,” says Theta. He's sitting on North's shoulder – well, hovering over it, but he looks like he's sitting. “This all started when you got your AI, right?”

South has to admit, her brother's stupid AI is actually _pretty_ smart. Not that she's going to tell the fucking thing. It... he doesn't need to know _what_ she thinks of him.

Wash nods, leaning up against North. That's usually _South's_ place. She's a little jealous, not that she'd ever admit it. But it's not like it means _anything_ , nothing romantic or sexual or anything but platonic – it's just for support. South's not blind, _or_ stupid, and her jealousy's not going to get the better of her. She can tell 'support' when she sees it.

Besides. Wash needs it.

“What _happened_?” asks North, for the third or eighth time. 

South's lost count. It's _probably_ below ten.

“I don't know, okay? I don't know! All I know is that... that whatever happened with Epsilon... I think it, he, whatever... I don't know.” Wash seems to say 'I don't know' quite a bit, not that South can blame him. She gets it. She's pretty confused, too.

Just... maybe not as confused as him.

“It's alright. Take your time,” says North, but he has this tone to his voice that South recognizes. She glances over at him, cocks one eyebrow, and he nods – the very vague 'we need to talk' gestures that they've worked out over the years always work. Well... _almost_ always.

North gets up, leaves Theta with Wash to keep him company, and the two of them walk a little ways from Wash. And the second they're out of earshot, South whips towards her brother, scowling. “What the fuck aren't you telling me?”

“I'm... South, can we not get into this right now?”

“No! You're keeping something from me. You _can't_ do that, North.”

“South... Texas was pulling Omega.”

That's... well. That's a bit of a surprise.

“I don't _care_ about that bitch _or_ her AI,” South says, her voice strained. “You're not telling me something, and that's not it.”

“Look... I think we _both_ know the Director wasn't getting these AI legally.”

South swallows. “What does that have to do with _this_?”

“I... I don't know for sure, but I talked to Texas, and... she got it from someone else... but... I'm pretty sure that the Director was torturing an AI to get fragments.”

That hits her like a blow to the stomach. She takes a step back. “What do you _mean_?”

“I mean exactly what I'm saying.”

“But they're AI. They can't be tortured!”

“Maybe not physically, but... emotionally? Mentally? If you were put through simulation after simulation, designed to break you down... if it showed you your worst fears, over and over again, wouldn't that be torture enough?” He pauses, looks at his feet for a moment, as though he's gathering his thoughts, and then reaches over to take her hands. It's a comfort thing – it grounds him, she knows that. “You don't have to hurt someone _physically_ to torture them.”

“Yeah, I know, but... North, who did Tex get this from?”

“I... I can't tell you,” he says, and South yanks her hands away.

“Of course you can!”

“No. Texas... she didn't tell me. She didn't have _time_.”

Time. That seems like something _none_ of them have lately.

“But... this doesn't make any sense?”

“I know it doesn't. But... we'll figure it out.”

She does the only thing she can think of. Steps forward, buries herself in him, like she's always done. She's always let him hold her, like he can keep her from the world. He rests his chin on top of her head, his arms encircling her in a way that's more defensive than anything else.

“We'll have to keep moving. It won't be long before... whatever attacked Wyoming comes after _us_.”

South shakes her head against his chest, and pulls away for a moment. “You need to give up Theta.”

“I can't, South. I _can't_. You know what they'll do to him – they'll lock him up in some storage facility, like they'll do with any other AIs they manage to get their hands on. They won't be able to get Delta... I don't think York's going to let them get anywhere near him. And I'm _not_ letting them take Theta.”

“You have to. What if that thing kills you to get your stupid AI? It – he's not worth it, North! Suck it up. Grow up. You can't protect him.”

“Not if we stay in one place,” he says quietly.

She rolls her eyes. “You can't be serious.”

“I am. South... I don't want to lose Theta.”

“Stop being so... _dad_ like, or whatever the fuck this is. Look, when this is all over, we'll go and like... I dunno, get an apartment, and you can adopt as many kids as you want. I'll even help! But Theta's _not_ your kid, Kolya!” The nickname's a jab at him, to try and make him see sense... but it's not going to help, and she knows that. Once he sets his mind on something, there's no use trying to change his mind.

They're similar like that.

“Please,” he says quietly, pulling her back to him. “I know you don't understand... you don't, you never...”

“Because you won't explain. Because I never _got_ an AI, okay? Because everyone else _but_ me got fucking AI. And now you're being a fucking shitbag and –”

He actually snorts. “Can you be a little less creative with the cuss words?”

“ _What_?”

“I'm serious. That was just... I don't know, a _bit_ excessive?”

He's heard her use more creative cuss words. 'course he has. She's good at those. “Shut up. Now you're just trying to change the subject.”

“South... I'm not giving up Theta. Not to the Director, not to the UNSC, not to whatever attacked Wyoming... no one. I'm not giving him up.”

He pauses, and she steps backwards, back towards the fire and Wash and Theta.

“I _can't_ do that to him,” he says, and there's something in his eyes she doesn't understand.

“You have to!” She wants so scream, wants to hit him, wants to knock some sort of sense into him because he has to know that he's being an idiot, that he's being so fucking stupid. But she can't. She can't. She can't argue with him, not when Wash is having some kind of mental breakdown a few feet from them. If Wash wasn't there? Of course she'd yell, and shout, and fight him if she had to.

But she can't. And _he_ can't give up Theta.

* * *

It's strange, watching South sleep next to Wash. As though the two of them have never fought before. As though South hasn't insulted him on numerous occasions. But North has no plans to bring that up. She probably has no idea she's practically asleep on Wash, with her head barely resting on his arm.

She's probably uncomfortable. No, scratch that – she is uncomfortable. He can tell by the way she keeps shifting in her sleep. There have been too many times she's fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, or in his lap, or wherever is most comfortable. He's never cared: her comfort's more important. Always has been.

His eyes are trying to close. The fire's warm enough to lull him into a false sense of security, into sleep, if he lets it.

“Why're you watching her sleep?” asks Theta suddenly.

“Because she's my sister,” he whispers back, raising an eyebrow at Theta. “And I'm also keeping an eye on Wash. We aren't _fully_ safe here. Someone has to keep watch, make sure the fire doesn't go out.”

“Oh,” says Theta quietly. “That... makes sense. She... she kinda looks weird when asleep.” He pauses, flickers. “She _doesn't_ look like she wants to hurt me.”

“It's not like you haven't seen her asleep before, Theta.”

“Yeah, but this is different. Do you think she's scared? I'm kinda scared.”

“Hey. Don't worry. If _anything_ happens, I'll protect you. And... don't tell her I said this, but I think she's _just_ as scared as you are.”

“Really? I thought South wasn't scared of anything.”

“Everyone's scared of things.”

“What're you scared of, then?”

He can think of a few things. “Spiders. Sometimes snakes. Why?”

“You're not scared of... I dunno, losing South? Or maybe Wash?”

“Of course I am. Everyone fears losing the people they love.”

Theta exhales. “Good.”

“Why? Are you scared of losing them?”

“Yeah,” Theta admits, keeping his voice quiet. “I don't want Wash to die or anything. He's really nice, and I'm... scared that something bad's happening to him, or that he's gonna get hurt. Is that okay?”

“Of _course_ it is,” he says, and Theta nods like that's acceptable.

* * *

They've packed up to move on by next morning – not that there's anything to pack, really. It'd be nice to stay in the warehouse longer... but they need food, and showers, and a nicer place to sleep.

(In the months to come, those will be rarities.)

Wash has trained himself to get into his armor within a few minutes – less than fifteen, at the very most. He watches the twins get dressed (or suited up, whichever works best) – North keeps trying to help South with her armor, and she keeps shrugging him off, looking away from him. It's not unusual for her to be angry at him, 'course. Wash doesn't think he can name a single time he's seen South be affectionate to North.

They can't leave the armor here, and they have no other ways of carrying it around. And it's not like people wearing armor isn't common these days... not with the war.

It takes him a little longer than usual to get into his armor. He's _exhausted_. It's not that he didn't sleep, though – he slept pretty much fine, with a few interruptions here and there. If it's possible for someone to be mentally drained, though, that's what he is.

It wasn't that he didn't sleep. It's what he dreamed of that bothers him.

Allison, her hands caressing his face. Allison, holding their – no, that's _not_ right – her daughter on her hip. Allison, begging him not to say goodbye. Allison, kissing him before she left. And then... not Allison, not Allison at all, informing him that his wife was _dead_.

And then... the Director. The Director, pushing him too hard. Pushing him past his limits. Lying. Lying. _Lying_. 

“ _It's not your fault.”_

_How can you say that? Of course it is! Was anybody hurt?_

“ _I am sorry. Yes. Washington, and another, died.”_

_Who?_

“ _I can't say.”_

_Who? WHO DIED?_

“ _Agent Texas.”_

But Tex wasn't dead, not that he knew of. And Wash _wasn't_ dead. It didn't add up. It didn't make sense. None of it made any sense at all.

Is it possible to sleep, but not get any rest?

So they hit the road. Well – is it 'hitting the road' if they're not driving? If they're just walking? Maybe it depends on the person, but Wash is pretty sure it does count.

It's early enough that the streets are pretty much empty. No rush of traffic. Wash wonders what time it is – the sun's rising over brown buildings that make the entire landscape look old. A few of them have broken windows, with glass sprayed out on the sidewalks below.

Quiet? 

Not quiet so much as abandoned.

“How're you holding up?” North asks, placing a hand on Wash's shoulder.

He tries not to shrug him off. Almost fails. For some reason, the idea of anyone touching him just feels... _wrong_.

“I... I'm fine,” he says. It's not a lie. Not fully, anyways. He's not really anything right now – everything just feels somewhat numb. Strange, because the only other time he's felt like this was when his older sister died. But not really strange when you think about it.

His shoulders slump slightly.

“Are you sure?” North asks, and Wash can hear the concern practically oozing out of his voice. He's been on this side of the concern a few times – pretty much everyone has – but he's so used to watching North dote over _other_ people. It feels weird for North to check in on him. Usually it's South, or York maybe, or Carolina. Maybe Tex once or twice, in those rare moments that she showed any semblance of weakness.

“North?” he says, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

“Yes?”

“I'm _fine_. Maybe you should check on South.”

North actually groans, his hand slipping off Wash's shoulder. Which... _wasn't_ the response Wash was expecting. But, honestly, what was he expecting? For North to go, 'yeah, hey, I'm gonna go dote on my sister, as per usual! Great idea, Wash'? 

“Don't bring South into this.”

“ _I had to improvise. We had a problem.”_

“ _Let me guess, are you related to the problem?”_

“ _Okay, now_ I _don't wanna talk about it.”_

And great. Now his head's hurting again. He'd almost forgotten that exchange – right before Tex showed up. Literally _right_ before she showed up.

Then, a second later or maybe even less, there's a tiny firework and suddenly Theta is there. “What're we talking about?”

“A lot of things,” says North.

“You're not talking about me, are you?”

North laughs. Which is a strange sound, after _everything_ that's happened. “'course not. Besides, it's not like I'd say anything bad about you.”

“I didn't think you were!”

Wash frowns beneath his helmet. “Theta, everyone loves you. You – you really don't have anything to worry about.”

“South doesn't love me.”

“South's an outlier and shouldn't be counted. She's the exception.”

“I heard that,” says South from behind them.

Theta actually giggles.

* * *

A week passes. Wash shuts down more and more, keeps having what Theta characterizes as 'panic attacks.'

South can't explain it – it's not happening to her, so how could she? – and she can't fucking help him figure out what's causing it. North seems to get it. Theta seems to get it. But South? South _doesn't_ get it. Not at all.

They've made their way through the city, using abandoned buildings (or unlived-in ones) as shelter. Once, they stop at a public gym and South gets to take an actual shower for the first time in what feels like forever. Her hair dye's mainly faded, leaving soft pink remnants behind, so vaguely there that it's startling. She doubts she'll have the chance to get her hands on hair dye, or that she'll even have time to die it. Not anytime soon, not with North keeping Theta.

She's still pissed. Is she allowed to be pissed about that? 'course she's fucking pissed: it's her brother, choosing a stupid AI over what could possibly be his own life. It'd be so easy for him to just give Theta up. But noooo, he's gotten attached to the stupid thing.

Figures.

She should've known. The second she saw him interacting with Theta, the second she heard him treat Theta like a kid... she should've known.

She should've known that he was gonna put Theta first.

North's never, ever, put himself first. She can't name a _single_ time that he actually thought about himself first. When they were kids, maybe once or twice, but she can't actually remember those times, so they don't exactly count, now _do_ they?

But... she's _not_ gonna let him die for a computer program.

She has to admit, it makes her feel sick to her stomach. Thinking that... that he could die. That the Director could kill him to take Theta, if he ever finds them. That anyone could try and take Theta and that North would sacrifice himself to try and keep his goddamn AI _alive_. It's the kind of love that's selfless, that parents have for their kids.

But he's... he's always kind of had it.

No matter fucking how much it annoys her, it's a part of him. Like how rage and spite and jealousy all bundle up inside her, and she hates it, hates the way she acts half the time, but it's part of her. It is her. And yeah, North can be so fucking patronizing it's not even funny... but he's _selfless_.

The kind of selfless that might very well get him killed.

But she's not gonna let that happen.

There are some things that siblings do for each other. Some things that aren't explainable, but happen nonetheless. She'd kill for her brother – not that it's saying much, since she's already killed before. She'd die for him, if there were no other choices. And you can bet that she would fucking turn herself over to the Project if that's the only way to keep him alive.

But she's hoping it won't have to come to that.

* * *

He's been keeping track of the days. Well... more like he's had Theta keeping track, but it's the same thing. They've been on this planet for fourteen days, almost fifteen – two _weeks_. It both seems so slow and so fast, as though they just left the Project, and as though that was a _lifetime_ ago.

The city seems to stretch on. There are parts that are abandoned, as though the entire populace picked up and left one day, never to come back. It's eerily calm in those areas, a ghost town kind of quiet. Theta doesn't like it. North doesn't, either.

They try to avoid those areas.

They try to stick to the city itself. It's bright, and buzzing... and filled with enough military folks that nobody takes a second glance at the three of them. Once or twice, the glances linger on the brightly colored armor... but then they look away, and go back to whatever they were doing before.

“Can't they just, I dunno, leave us the fuck alone? We're just soldiers. Like half the fucking population on this shitty, God forsaken planet,” grumbles South, looking at a bulletin board advertising shiny new apartment complexes and jobs. She tears a flier off the board, frowns at it. “How much do we need money?”

“We're down to...” North thinks for a second, mentally counts the money they have left. “Three dollars. So I'd say we need it quite a bit.”

“It's too bad Niner couldn't leave us with, like, a million or something.”

“Niner's not that rich,” says Wash.

“You ever hear her mention how she took flying lessons as a kid?”

“Half of the people where I'm from took flying lessons as a kid.”

“Where're you from, anyways, _Davey_?” North can tell the nickname's aimed to sting. They almost always are with South. “Some middle of nowhere colony where everyone wanted to get the hell off the planet?”

“Doesn't matter,” says Wash, and North can hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. He's good at noticing those hints, those faint tones – trained via South's occasional bouts of gloominess. “I left that stuff behind when I joined the military. Didn't you two?” He gestures between the two of them as he says it, then turns towards the bulletin board, studying a pamphlet.

“Oh, so does a job as an exotic dancer sound _interesting_ , Wash?” South says, her tone mocking. “I hear it pays well.”

“I – I'm not – that's not – I didn't -” Wash shuts up after a second or two, and South laughs.

North sighs and grabs the flier from his sister's hand.

“This is a job at a fast food restaurant.”

“I asked if we needed money, _not_ if you wanted a job selling high end crap, North. You gotta take what you get, right? Besides, it's a good opportunity. We can get a hotel room or something. Stay here for a week or two. Then just... I dunno, disappear. Isn't that what you want?”

The last few words are acidic, aimed at him in a way he knows is because he won't leave Theta. It doesn't hurt, though – likely the opposite of what she intended. She can be as jealous as she likes. He's not leaving Theta behind. He _couldn't_. How many times has he stayed up all night because Theta couldn't sleep? How many times have Theta's dreams melded with his, and he's jolted awake from a nightmare, forced to calm Theta down if he plans on going back to sleep? _Sure_ , it's hard work – but Theta's...

It's like South said. Maybe he's being too fatherly, or too brotherly, or too something.

But it's better too much than nothing at all, right?

He reads over the flier once, then twice, then frowns. “I don't know. There's... gotta be something else.”

“We could... walk dogs?” suggests Wash, gesturing at another flier.

“Too little money. I don't know...” He pauses for a second, trying to think. “Maybe getting jobs isn't a good idea?”

“ _I'm_ not the one who said we needed money!” South protests, even though she's... not really protesting anything.

North takes a deep breath, then exhales, trying not to throw the entire bulletin board. “We _do_ need money.”

“No,” says South sharply, turning away from the board and towards him. “what we need is for you to explain what the fuck is going on.”

“We've been through this!”

“No, we really _haven't_!”

“I'm _not_ arguing about this again, South.”

Wash presses his hands to the side of his helmet and groans. “You guys give me more headaches than I think I've ever had in my life.”

Then, South freezes, her head turning to the side. “Do you... do you hear that?”

Nothing.

And then...

Engines.

“Those're Pelicans,” says South, pointing. North follows her finger.

She isn't wrong.

“They're UNSC Pelicans,” says Wash. As if there are any other kinds of Pelicans. “I... fuck, guys, I _think_ that's Niner's Pelican.”

South's head turns back towards North. “You don't think...”

“I don't want to find out,” he says. Because if it is, by any chance, the Project... he's going to lose Theta. “But... they'll find us eventually.”

“They're gonna try and take me, aren't they?” says Theta, appearing at North's shoulder.

He can't lie to him. Not after everything they've been through so far. “Yes, Theta, they... they are.”

So when, after a few seconds, South says, “Let me go. You and Wash need to get outta here. I'll talk to them,” North doesn't fully register it.

And then he does.

“South, _no_.” he says, staring at her. “You're not...”

“North, shut the fuck up and listen to me. It's Theta they'll want, right? And... whatever happened to Wash,” she says, lowering her voice, “I dunno... but I don't think the Project's gonna want him alive. Look, North, trust me on this. You're the one always saying that trust's the most 'important foundation to any relationship,' right?”

“Well...”

“South, you can't do this,” says Wash.

“It's not up to either of you! They'll just keep looking for us until they find us. So let me go. Let me talk to them, okay? I'll... shit, it doesn't matter. I'll figure something out. I'm not fucking dumb, North. I can handle myself.”

They don't have much longer. They need to get out of there. “ _Anja_ ,” he says, as insistently as possible. “Please, you don't...”

“North, you said it yourself. You're _not_ giving up Theta. So...”

Is she trying to make him choose? Is she _really_ going to do that? Of course he'd chose her... wouldn't he?

South grabs his hand for a split second, and he knows he can't change her mind. And then she shoves him backwards. “Now... fucking _go_ , North. I'll... I'll see you again. I promise! _Я люблю тебя всей душой_.” She glances over at Wash, but she doesn't say anything to him.

“ _Я тоже тебя люблю_ ,” North says softly.

And then, she turns away, and she's gone.

* * *

_Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes._

Wash wonders if he hates goodbyes, too.

* * *

It's strange how much she's already missed.

Niner sort of fills her in on the way to the ship, but she keeps stopping – classified things, stuff she can't tell South. Stuff that the Director probably won't tell South, either. But she manages to gather a few things: Agent Carolina's MIA, presumed dead. Agent York, Maine, Wyoming, Texas... all MIA, and Florida's KIA. _Most_ of them are presumed dead. Soldiers, medics, other Freelancers... the whole shebang.

“What happened to North and Washington?” asks Niner.

South doesn't even hesitate.

“They're both dead.”


End file.
